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Camp was unusually quiet that night. They had been traveling ever since Lothering, the news of the destruction there reaching them not long after arriving just outside Redcliffe. In the morning, they would travel into town, en route to the castle where Alistair believed the Arl would help. He owed him that much.
The somber news held a cloud of melancholy over the group; Leliana did not offer to play her lute that night. Even Alistair was surprised to find Nymeria—his grey warden companion—upset, her calm demeanor more quiet than normal. Though, it wasn’t right for him to make assumptions about what she might be feeling, or thinking. He knew she was from the circle tower of Magi, a young elven woman that had lived there her entire life. Nymeria had briefly explained she was still getting used to the outside world, joking she had forgotten that grass was green and that the sky was blue.
What he had first interpreted as distrust from her (he was a former Templar-recruit after all), he had discovered was simply a discreet nature. She was polite, humble pie, as Leliana had called her, without a hint of a self-serving nature. It was strange, at least to Alistair, to find such traits in a mage; at least one that had been locked away in a tower their whole life. Suspicion, animosity—those were feelings he could handle. But as he discovered more about her sweet personality, about how strong-willed she could be…Andraste preserve him; he was falling.
He watched her, a pensive expression pulling her typical bright smile into a tight frown. It lingered there, all throughout the set-up of their tents, even through dinner when he tried to lighten the mood with a story from his days with his fellow wardens. She offered him a polite smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. When she walked away from the campfire, Alistair felt his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. He knew her mood wasn’t directed towards him, but he was still afraid, still unsure if it was all too soon for him to be admitting to himself he had feelings for the woman.
His gaze lingered on her as she sat away from the others, her marabi companion circling around her in excited little jumps, as if to try and cheer her up as well. Alistair wondered ifhe could lighten her mood with something else. Then, a thought—he opened up his pack, before pulling out a treasured item.
Alistair looked down at the flower in his hand—a rose picked from Lothering he had been carrying for a few weeks now. It had been the last bud left on the dying bush, and at the time, he wasn’t quite sure why he had decided to take it with him. Wynne had given him a small vial to keep the stem in, and he wondered if the clear liquid in the glass was what kept it as bright red as when he picked it.
Now, as he stared at it, thumbing the petals with a delicate touch, he realized he had picked it for her, for Nymeria—something so beautiful amongst the chaos. He made the mental note to tell her that. Hopefully she liked that kind of romantic prose, regardless of how tawdry it was. He had to give himself credit where it was due; he had never done this sort of thing before. Wait…what was he doing?
Alistair glanced back to Nymeria, and already his heart was racing. Would giving her the rose really be a good idea? He wanted a sure-fire way to put the smile back on her face, but this? This was a gamble, a risk he wasn’t sure he was ready to take. They had only known each other for such a short amount of time and he was smarter than this. Love at first sight only existed in the fairytales that spinster women read…right? Whoa. Who said anything about love?
He flicked his tongue in a nervous sweep across his lips. Tested the word silently in his mouth. Love, l-o-v-e…and then it came crashing down around him, much like everything else in his life did. He loved Nymeria. In his head, and in his heart he knew it to be true. It was a terrifying realization, and yet, it was like a burden he didn’t realize he had been carrying had been lifted off his shoulders. Finally, he swallowed down his nerves and stood up, gripping the rose between his fingers.
It was now or never.
He found Nymeria right where he had last seen her, standing on the outskirts of camp with Barkspawn. She was smiling, and for a long moment he was transfixed, caught in a daze by how beautiful she was. She noticed him, first out of the corner of her eye, before turning her gaze to him. Her emerald eyes shined in the darkness, and as he remained quiet, just staring at her, a blush fell on her cheeks. She raised her hand up to her face, tucking a few strands of flame-colored hair behind a pointed ear.
“Did you need something, Alistair?” She asked, voice low but steady.
Maker, even the way she said his name had his heart racing. He gripped the flower behind his back tight before finally stepping closer, bringing it around so she could see. Right. Deep breath. Now or never, he reminded himself.
“Here.” He brought the rose around between them so she could see. Her face seemed to light up a little and his heart soared. “Look at this. Do you know what this is?”
“Your new weapon of choice?” She teased, and finally, her lips pulled up into a small smile. Alistair chuckled nervously, moving the rose in his hand.
“Yes! That’s right!” He watched as she softly giggled, a hand rising to cover her lips in amusement. He could feel his cheeks heating in mild embarrassment. Humor was definitely his deflector. “Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements!”
Nymeria laughed, and he continued. At least this part was going well. “Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!” He tried to pull back the humor. “Or you know, it could just be a rose. I know that’s pretty dull in comparison.”
“You know.” Nymeria prompted, eyes searching his face as she stared at him, smile softening as her laugher calmed. “Sentiment can be a pretty potent weapon.”
“Is…is it that easy to see right though me?” He nervously laughed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” It was becoming harder to keep his eyes locked on hers, especially when he remembered what he wanted to say. “I picked it in Lothering. I thought…how could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?”
Nymeria’s bright green eyes were bright as he glanced back to her, almost intimidating him into stopping before he continued. Something told him he was already too far ahead. He gulped down his nerves, but they remained stuck in his throat.
“I thought that I might…give it to you, actually.” He turned up his lips in a sideways smile. Nymeria’s brows jumped up in surprise, but she remained silent. “In a lot of ways…I think the same thing when I look at you.”
He was fumbling, his voice breaking as his anxiety started to lace his words. Alistair looked at her again, and could feel his ears burning, knowing his face must be the color of a beet. With a shaky hand, he rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing away from her eyes towards her lips before back at the ground.
“You’re so cute when you’re bashful.” Nymeria finally said and Alistair felt no more words left in his brain to use. Speechless and dumbstruck, he simply blinked at her, his lips hanging open.
He had confessed. Alistair loved Nymeria Surana; not exactly what he said, but he wasn’t about to scare her away after knowing her such a short time. And yet, as she slowly spoke, reaffirming his affections, the world around him slowed to a halt. She took the flower from his hands, not without lacing a few of her fingers in his grasp. With a small smile she inched forward and it took Alistair a few moments to realize just what was happening.
Nymeria liked him too. It was a whisper on her full lips as she tilted her chin upward, small body stepping to be closer to him. Alistair smiled, eyes quickly scanning her face, taking in every detail. He wanted to remember this moment forever. And when she finally kissed him, he was quick to kiss back, the two slowly melting into one another’s arms as the world around them fell away. For the first time, perhaps in all his life, he was happy—happy to have become a warden, happy to survive Ostagar…happy to have met Nymeria.